


The palm of your hand

by Hecker (MainstreamHecker)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe, Hand & Finger Kink, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-War, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Voice Kink, poetry sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MainstreamHecker/pseuds/Hecker
Summary: ...."So how are we doing this?"Megatron sighed, rising to his knees. "I need to lean downwards so that debris won't get in.""Oh yeess... Smother me in your chest."....A.k.a once upon a time an officer saved someone from being wrongfully convicted. This explores none of that. It's about two big bara boyfriends jacking off to poetry





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Weird oral spark sex with even weirder alien biology hc. Blatant disregard of canon. Butchering of a poem. Megatron practicing safe spark sex.
> 
> If you wondered how the spark looked like its like how Ratchet's was drawn on mtmte 18.

Orion always loved Megatron's fingers, he had told him. Megatron laughed and said, "You love them for where I stick it in," then his vents and humor stuttered when Orion looked at him in the eyes reverently and kissed those hands.

 

He hold them tighter, already expecting the pull, "Wait- Pax," a harder tug. "You are going to get coal in your tanks you idiot. Ratchet is already hissing a fit at the state of your vents."

 

"I kept on the mask, I promise."

 

"Not as often as you should, which is always. Why are you even doing this? You had been wearing a faceplate long before this."

 

"Because we both know what it implies," Orion growled into the dented palm, fingers intertwined, he pushed the hand closer to his face. Nose nuzzled on the crook of the thumb and forefinger, his world caged in dust between jointed metals. There was a new scratch on his middle finger, the small wound flashed gray virgin metal underneath. Orion licked and tasted salt, tongue tingling from the healing nanites. He got a slap for that.

 

"The privileged is the power of the choice, don't you dare clog your airway just for this little tantrum."

 

"I know. I know but I am just-"

 

"If you keep this up you will be dead earlier than the revolution you so wish to bring."

 

"And it will come," Orion insisted, clasping the hand that slapped him in both of his and kissed scrapped knuckles. "it will come my love. I will bring the world that sings your words, the world that orbits around our dream."

 

Megatron twisted his hand from Orion's grip, cupping his cheek and brushed his thumb on his lower lip. "Poverty is not the lack of wealth," The plush mesh dimpled under his gentle pressure. "but the lack of an opportunity. Your passion and rage burns from the same core, and when the time comes, your supernova will blow the chance from under your feet."

 

"If I had to explode to bring down this derelict world I would."

 

The thumb moved upwards, pulling Orion's upper lips to bare the teeth. His eyes wide and bright, blinding neon glowed with life, with hope. Like this, he looked savage. Manic.

 

Megatron's breath trembled with arousal.

 

"I don't think today is a good day to share you my poems."

 

"What?! No! Why?"

 

"You know why," he snapped back. "The whole mine heard of your argument with the supervisor."

 

"I was merely giving a reasonable suggestion," he gritted between clenched teeth. "I only asked the bare minimum. If the higher officers could be supplied filter masks then so does the workers. Especially the workers. Should they slave-"

 

Orion's words got cutoff as Megatron hooked both thumbs on his molars and pushed his jaw down. "You know how much my words recited in your voice excites me," he leaned and whispered on Orion's audial. His own voice gritty, twanged and pitched with the accent of Tarn. He could never get them as low as Orion's but Orion shivered all the same. "Your actions provoked by my writings both scares me and brings me to the precipice of overload."

 

Megatron removed his hands, soaked in oral lubricants. Orion leaped forward to lick them clean. "Don't keep testing their boundaries Pax. The worst had yet to come following a demotion into a miner warden. Resistance didn't resist total eradication by being stupid."

 

"Shockwave-"

 

"Could have benefit you better out there than here," Megatron rubbed the bridge of his nose. Primus help him from the privileged that thought they would be free from consequences. "He himself should be wary. He toed the line a lot of times too many."

 

Orion glowered at the ground. This was what they always returned to by the end of the day. The majority of the time spent during their clandestine meeting consisted of philosophical arguments. Then, if he was brave enough or foolish enough, Megatron would share his writings and Orion would almost always recite them. His baritone thunderous, distinctive, and alluring; the obligatory quality of an enforcer to rally the crowd. With the audience of one, it is eroticism.

 

The times he did not recite them was when Megatron wrote something more... political instead of personal enjoyment. Orion would skim the words beforehand. Eyes jumping from prose to prose, then back up. Again and again he would savor every glyph, breath becoming faster, temperature rising higher as his energon raced in his lines. He would stand, paced, sometimes punch the walls as he replayed the words in his cortex. Drunk like a direct shot to the brain with a circuit booster.

 

That never failed to make Megatron wet enough to douse the entire moon.

 

Megatron rubbed Orion's cheek, he sighed in contentment and nuzzled the palm. "How could you do this to me," Orion rumbled affectionately.

 

Megatron nipped his lower lip, "You don't know what _you_ did to _me_." he replied back. Seeing how much he influenced him, Megatron had never felt more powerful. He wondered if this is how Primus felt if he could condemn them and yet still demanded to be worshipped.

 

A hand traced the center of his chest piece, Megatron was suddenly aware the filthy state he was in. He had come here directly from the shaft, having to substitute for Trowel, he barely had time to brush off the debris caked on his joints. "Pax." he started, all of a sudden self conscious.

 

"It's okay."

 

"Pax I didn't even get to wash my hands, and don't give me the 'I licked it clean' slag. I will dent your helm before I tell Ratchet and he will dent it again before giving you the interface 101."

 

"I'm not, I'm not." although Orion's face definitely said he was just about to say that. He unsubspaced a cube of coolant, Megatron gave him a skeptical look.

 

"That is not going to be enough."

 

"Oh I am well aware of the size of your fingers," Orion sighed dreamily. "it's for me. You just sit back and let me do the rest."

 

"Pax-"

 

"Come on, love." He threw back the coolant, swishing it around before he swallowed. He smacked his lips, "So how are we doing this?"

 

Megatron sighed, rising to his knees. "I need to lean downwards so that debris won't get in."

 

"Oh yeess," Orion hissed in arousal. He scooted back until his back hit the wall, legs spread in front of him, "Smother me in your chest."

 

Megatron straddled him, knees on either side of his hips. Orion plastered his hands all over, molesting every planes of his kibble. A finger squirmed in between the space of his treads, spreading the lips wide to fondle the chain underneath. He hooked them on the tip and tugged, then buried it deeper, squeezing into the tightness to tickle the walls of his cog. Megatron shuddered. Steam already rising from his seams. Orion's other hand slipped from the back of his knee up his thigh, fingertips drumming in between his legs near his crotch.

 

Megatron shifted higher on his knees, forearms braced on the wall to level his chest with Orion's face. He accidentally smacked Orion's head with his bulky chassis, "Oh love, I think I heard your spark already knocking for me." Orion teased.

 

Megatron used his elbows to the back of Orion's head to grind his face to his chest. "I think you're mistaken. Try listening better." Orion tapped his back in surrender. Wimp. 

 

He ignored Orion's pout and leaned over his face as he shifted his chest plate open. Just as he expected, dust rained around them. Megatron sigh at the relief from the subtle pressure of pebbles between his seams, gyros adjusted his balance as his mass redistributed.

 

"Hello there beautiful," Orion purred, greeting the glow of Megatron's spark from between his arms.

 

"Don't go talking to my spark again Pax."

 

"It was foreplay!"

 

"It was stupid and weird. I had never had such an awkward overload all my life."

 

Orion winced at his punch to his ego. "At least you overloaded." he mumbled dejectedly.

 

"If I am so desperate for an overload that I will settle for anything then I will stab myself with the officer's volt-stick." 

 

Orion leaned into his chest, playfully nudging his cheeks and nose on the periphery machinery on his way to the spark chamber. He planted a big wet kiss on the middle of the glass casing. Megatron sucked in a breath, cables starting to tense in lust.

 

Orion nibbled on the clamp over the glass, teeth tapping gently on the metal, producing the most delicious vibration over his spark... Too much vibration. Megatron wrinkled his brow, listening over the sound of rattling platings, the wet licking, the muffled sound of Orion talking.

 

"Pax are you talking to my spa-" 

 

" _-lick your body new again,_ " Orion raised his voice. Somber baritone reverberated against his chamber, the deep bass of his voice dictating the pulse of his spark. " _like my tongue is the Guiding Hand trying to erase and recreate the planet._ " 

 

A full body shudder washed over Megatron. His thigh pinched Orion's waist, "Pax-" he gasped, a hand cradling him closer into his chest.

 

Orion's tongue swirled over the circumference of the window, " _We will be what makes the sidewalk blister._ " a hot breath was blown. Megatron squealed as the air tickled into every notch, every cable surrounding his spark. " _In the beginning, I will find you_." Swipe. Nip. " _pull you into me_." Orion dragged him closer, hands pulling his back kibble desperately. As if Megatron was not trying to hump his face hard enough to bust a hole on the wall.

 

"Pax-" Megatron moaned over the wet squelching noise inside him. One hand on Orion's shoulder, his head banged steadily against the wall as Megatron rutted his spark chamber to that eager mouth. "O-ooh Pax... yesss." he hissed.

 

" _We will make the ground and the sky jealous._ " Orion buried his head closer to the swelling mess of cords. Arousal tensing the cables, fuel bloating the lines, Megatron's spark bulged outwards. Pushing against the lips intent of worshipping him. " _This world is a shackle we’re only using for foreplay._ "

 

Orion spread his jaw as wide as he could and engulfed the spark chamber, using the tip of his tongue to toggle the clamps. Making them tap against the glass rhythmically.

 

"Pax!!" Megatron screamed, hunched over Orion as his body fought to go both against and towards the stimulation. Orion made the decision for him, digging deeper into the engorged chest. Buried. "A-ah good. Oh Pax you're so good." he slurred, drooling from the corner of his mouth.

 

His chest dripped, slick and sticky. Static and lubricant bridged Orion's lips when he pulled away, " _You may think I’m in denial_ ," he rubbed his cheek on the drenched spark chamber. The friction made Megatron spasm.

 

His chest component had swelled to its final limit, the spark chamber at its highest physiological vulnerability; completely outside his chest cavity. Primed to accept another spark pulse. "I-I'm close." Megatron stated the obvious.

 

" _That I am avoiding the bigger issue here_ -"

 

Megatron hiccuped. "Pax please," toes curling, he gripped Orion's head, bouncing and grinding him to his obscenely engorged chest. The friction snapped voltage down his circuits but it was just. Not. _Enough_. He sobbed in frustration.

 "- _but you didn’t even look at me the last time you said_ -" Orion stuttered " _You said_ -" he looked up at Megatron from below, gazing at him with those eyes. Those deep soulful eyes. "-I love you"

 

Something pinched in Megatron's spark, something lost it the overwhelming tide of overload as Orion latched on the ridge on top of his spark chamber and sucked.

 

Megatron howled. The spark window snicked open to let his very essence explode in waves, pulsing the song of his soul. Seeking a partner to synchronize its rhythm.

 

Strong arms pulled him forward, fighting his instincts to bend backwards. Away from the overstimulation. Away from Pax who is far from done, determined to sing back to the pulsing wave of the spark. Letting his voice vibrate in a mockery of his own core of being.

 " _We could be the most beautiful wreckage in all this smoke.  
When the apocalypse does come_ -"

 

Megatron hunched and convulsed with his second overload. His spark burned bright. Screaming into his palm, tears overflowed as he sobbed. "A-Ahn! PAX!!"

 

 " _I will rebuild our city with my tongue_..." Megatron tapped on Orion's shoulder urgently, but he embraced him tighter to his chest.

 

 " _I will suck this world’s ashes f-from your fingers_ -" Orion moaned. Megatron barely managed to spit static from his vocalizer. " _I will refuse to l-let the fires of this hell be the only thing that makes us sweat_."

 

Orion pulled his knee, heel dragging on the ground, kicking the other leg out. "W-wh..." he tried, choking back a groan. He leaned his forehead on Megatron's chest, staring into the bared spark to compose himself.

 

Hands cupped his audials; dented, scuffed, and marred. Tilting his face up so they could see each other.

 

" _W-When the apocalypse comes, so will we_ ," Orion gritted to Megatron's spark, shuddering into his own overload as he gripped Megatron's waist. Bumping his chestplate to Megatron's abdomen, his crotch, his smokestack whistled as it spewed clouds of steam.

 

Megatron only managed a small hiccup of static through his tears on his third overload. His body jolting then went lax as he passed out. Orion barely managed to catch him in his sluggishness, giving up on sitting and slid them both on the ground.

 

Megatron's spark chamber was still lewdly gaping open, right on top of Orion's chassis from where he lied prone above him. Orion batted away the whisper in his head about spark bonds as he smoothed a hand down Megatron's back.

 

"You..." Megatron panted without even opening his eyes. "...I don't... even know... where to... start..."

 

"Does it at least... make up for the... um... the last awkward overload?"

 

Megatron leveled him a look, Orion grinned back at him. Well aware of how he looked like with his chin slathered in drool, his face covered with wisps of spark mist. A sigh. "Pick a better poem next time."

 

"Oh for sure, I was just improvising. I will pick the longest and dirtiest I have in my arsenal."

 

"You are going to need it if my hands are coming into play next time." Megatron winced as he tried to get up. A smoky trail of spark mist bridged between him and Orion's chest, his inner chassis machinery still too swollen to be stuffed inside. Even the spark window was not closed yet,

 

"Oh, uh..." Orion fluttered his hands, suddenly shy at Megatron's nakedness. Megatron caught his hands.

 

"Don't touch it. It might have been acceptable where you come from. But here even the air in the mines could be hazardous."

 

"I know but-" he sputtered, "are you okay? I did not mean-"

 

"You hardly done anything Pax," snorted Megatron. He laid down closer, protecting his swollen chest with Orion's as he waited for it to cool down. He could feel him blushing at the intimacy of their position, the closest they had come to be spark to spark. How cute.

 

He cupped Orion's cheek again, he had been doing that a lot he realized. Mostly because he was always bestowed with that blissful expression. "Why are you so obsessed with my hands?"

 

"These hands fought every day just for the very minimum to survive," Orion nosed his way between the fingers. "By night they fought against the system that broke them. That tarnished them. These hands destroyed mountains and later recreated the whole universe with a single stylus."

 

He gave Megatron a cheeky grin, "Don't pretend you are not as obsessed with my mouth either."

 

Megatron did not reply, choosing only to squish his cheeks until his lips puckered, then pecked him on those smug lips. They laughed and exchanged some more chaste kisses.

 

By the time it turned steamy they were already late. "mmhmmPax..." Megatron tried to voice without taking his tongue from between Orion's teeth.

 

His reply was a tip of a tongue dragging across his palate. He shivered. "Pax we havennngh," a nip on his lower lip. "...have to leave..." Megatron tilted his head and dived in filthily. Wet lips smacking, Orion roamed his hands all over Megatron's back, hooking their ankles together.

 

Finally Orion broke the kiss, tongue licking the drool connecting their lips. "Okay," he took steady breath. "Okay. We aremmmhh... We are stoppinnnghh." They were not stopping. Their lips locked together again.

 

Megatron laughed when a hand pushed his face away, "How is that working out for you Pax?"

 

Orion growled and decided to punish him with more kisses. They fooled around until Orion pulled Megatron's arms from around his neck. He held on tighter.

 

"Megatron..."

 

"Just five more minutes," he uncharacteristically pleaded.

 

"And five minutes will be five minutes more," a kiss, "and five minutes more," another kiss, "and more five minutes-" Orion gave him one last dirty kiss and pushed them both up.

 

He stared at Megatron's still naked chest. The spark chamber had closed and the swelling had gone down enough for him to close it, but their making out had it the slightest bit puffed. Orion licked his lips at the ghost of a taste at the back of his tongue.

 

Instead of closing his chest, Megatron pulled them back further. He traced a finger titillatingly down the center of Orion's chassis, "We still have enough time for one more~"

 

That snapped Orion from his trance rather than enticed him, "No, you are given so little rest as it is my love."

 

"Right," his chest snapped closed. "Of course."

 

"Megatron..."

 

"I don't _get_ you." Megatron stood up, brushing away the hand that reached for him. "You obviously wanted it, I _enthusiastically_ said I wanted it. Here's an advice from the miner-folks; Don't save the best for last because you will never know when Is your last."

 

Silence.

 

Then Megatron hunched guiltily, "Forgive me. That was inconsiderate of me."

 

"Already forgiven. I have been selfish, neglected to think of you and I am sorry," he took Megatron's hand from his elbow, tilting his chin up and kissed the dejected frown on his face. "Next time we meet, you will show me that poem you are teasing me with, and we'll go -I swear over Ratchet's hands- spark to spark."

 

"That's a lot of burden you are weighing on the shoulders of tomorrow," he smiled uneasily.

 

"Come now," Orion kissed Megatron's fingers, "What ever could go wrong."

**Author's Note:**

> Original poem from:
> 
> -"When The Apocalypse Comes," Sierra DeMulder, The Bones Below.


End file.
